Through the Eyes of Another
by arknox443275
Summary: Draco Malfoy knew them as below himself, as a mudblood, blood traitor and the 'chosen one'. He did not, however, know the story that they held in memory. But he will learn, he will know what had turned them to what they were now, through the eyes of another.


"Filthy mudblood," Draco Malfoy spat at Granger, she didn't seem to even care, though Weasley did, he went to attack but was held back by Potter.

"He's not worth it," Potter told Weasley, though there seemed a story more than just that. And so it went on, like that every day for the years to come. He was in his sixth, just as they and yet it never stopped. He would never seem to stop.

Draco Malfoy was a rich, Pureblooded Slytherin above those three Gryffindors. That 'chosen-one' Potter, as if. The know-it-all mudblood Granger and the blood-traitorous Weasley who couldn't afford his own name. That was what he was tought. That was what he knew. That was all he knew.

And so, Draco Malfoy turned off the running water of the sink, changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed. He couldn't sleep, he just couldn't. The task that Voldemort himself had given him... well, it chilled his Slytherin bones.

_The kids, they were pointing, laughing, sneering and jeering. Calling names._

_"Know-it-all"_

_"Buck-toothed-beaver-girl!"_

_"Loser! Lamo!"_

_"Look at her!" One particularly ugly girl shrieked in laughter. Draco realized they were not laughing at him, but rather the fragile thing beside him. It was a girl, nine or so maybe. She had large front teeth, bushy brown hair and two wide, fascinated eyes, taking in all around her._

_But her eyes held sorrow, the sorrow of which all those around her teased. They called her names and went out of their way to bully her. This girl was Hermione Granger._

_"Leave me alone," Granger finally said, though her voice was weak, like she rarely used it._

_"Ooo," the shrieking girl mocked. "Is Granger girl trying to tell us something? Or are those dollars for teeth muffling her?" It wasn't even that good an insult, but it seems to make Granger squeeze her eyes shut, blocking the tears from their escape._

_Her face was red, not from anger or embarrassment, but from sadness. "Just leave me alone!" Gr-Hermione, Draco guessed he should call her, cried out, her hands on her eyes, running towards the school._

_The laughed followed, it echoed to the courtyard Hermione passed, to the doors in which she opened and to Draco's ears. Hermione sat in the corner of her element, the library, crying. Draco, all Pureblood habits and Slytherin expectations forgotten, wanted to comfort her some how. To tell her to ignore them, but he, every day, had been one of them._

_The dream shifted, he was no longer in a library, he was in a little room, decked in orange and red. Chuddly Canon posters hung on the walls, an unmade bed sat in the corner of the room._

_"Ronniekins, time for dinner!" A mocking voice said._

_There was movement near a stack of unwashed clothing, a redheaded boy, no older than nine, stood up and called back angrily, "Alright Fred, just don't call me Ronniekins!" Great, first Granger, now Weasley, Draco thought as he watched Ron open the door and walk down the many stairs._

_"-and the castle, mum, it's so large, even after two whole years..." A twelve-year-old... Perry? Peter? Percy, that was it. Percy Weasley was rapidly talking to his smiling mother, telling her about his year at Hogwarts- his second year._

_"Mum!" Fred and George, legends even to the Slytherins, both exclaimed and pointed out an official-looking owl, perched at the window, knocking rapidly on the window._

_"Well then," Molly smiled, "Go let it in."_

_"I'll do it!" Ron volunteered._

_"Nonsense, Ronniekins, this is our letters." George said, "We're sure of it." And so the twins ran to the window, opening it enough to let the owl in, it looked at them all contemptibly, as if they were all wasting its very precious time. It looked at them like Draco looked at them._

_The twins locked eyes, nodded and through silent communication, opened their letters at the same time. And so it happened like a wave of thunder;_

_"WE'RE GOING TO HOGWARTS!" They cheered, dancing and whooping._

_"Mum," Ron looked over, "When will I get to go to Hogwarts?"_

_His mother was about to reply when the sound of a door opening interrupted them all._

_"Molly, I'm home!" Arthur Weasley, bright and cheery, walked into the house and hung his robe on a hook._

_"DAD!" The twins were jumping around Arthur now, "WE GOT OUR HOGWARTS LETTER!"_

_Ron was the only one not happy, he was the only one with a fake smile that not even the youngest, the only female, Ginny, had on._

_"I'll write to Minerva right away," Molly informed them. "Let her know they're coming."_

_"But when will I get to go..." And that was the last of Ron's words as the dream shifted one more, one last and one regretful time._

_The last dream was the worst, Draco registered that much of them. It was a simple place when he first gave a glance. Then he realized it was a muggle house, plain and white. Nothing much. In any fact Draco would have mistaken it for a cartoon house of your average Joe if not for the sign on the street. Privet Drive, where had he heard that before?_

_"He's awful, that Malfoy." He had heard Granger say to Potter._

_"Not as awful as my relatives on Privet Drive." Potter said in return. So here he was, huh? On Potter's relative's driveway. He was simply allowed into the house, like he was part of it almost, like it wanted Draco there._

_"Lissen 'ere ya little brat." A large, purple-faced drunken man slurred. They were in a hallway, a door so close. The boy, probably nine as the others had been, had messy black hair, a lightning-like scar on his forehead, baggy clothes, many-times-taped glasses and cuts, blood and bruises all along him. But what distracted Draco was the boys eyes. They were green, like jeweled emerald plants they were green, but they were dull. Once bright and lively, vitality and love filled it, but this man had driven that life out of it, and so they were staring, in fear, dully as if nothing else mattered but to escape. They were haunting._

_The man slurred again, "I-own-ya. Ya hear meh?" The slurr turned to roar and the bottle of alcohol, once in the evil giant's hand, came crashing upon the Potter boy's head. The boy nearly cried out as the giant gave a swift punch to his ribs, it would have broken some if past actions such as this had not already. The man, still not done, threw the figure into the wall._

_Potter let out a strangled cry like a wounded animal and reached for the knob of the cupboard door. He swung it open, flung himself inside and closed the door. From the outside, he saw the large man lock the door with a sadistic grin on his face. "That'll teech ya fer su-" And he passed out, on the spot, outside the cupboard, with a shatters of his alcohol bottle._

_The sobs came them from Potter, muffled and pained and all but wishing for the pain just to end. Draco, feeling sorry for the third time in this nightmare, stood motionless. This was the true, painful and sorrowful pasts of the three Gryffindors, one day to become the best of friends. The dream shifted, the sobs so far away, and then the dream, nightmare, realization, it ended itself._

This is what had happened, they lessons they learned. For Granger, it was to ignore those who taunted you, that was what Draco had done to her, taunted, and what she in return had done, ignored.

For Weasley it was to not live in the shadow of another, to be heard. When Granger didn't stand up for herself, Weasley was prepared to do it for her.

And Potter, there was a lot to learn from him. He learned not to pick fights, to plan things out before acting upon those superior in physical strength to him. That those armed do hurt. He had stopped Weasley from whatever curse would have been brought upon him should he have attacked. They not only learned their own lessons, but they taught Draco his own.

He forgot his own Slytherin pride, his Pureblood habits and for once, he cared. He had found the truth through the eyes of another.

* * *

**There it is! I just threw together some ideas and here we are. I don't know why, but I always figured Hermione to be teased mercilessly as a child, Ron to be shadowed by his brothers and Harry to be abused by a drunken Vernon. But what made me write this was how Draco could learn from this, how he could understand, forget his colder side and start to learn to accept others.**

**This is titled Through the Eyes of Another because, quite obviously, he was observing three childhoods, his school rivals, and without taking part of it, simply watching. I hoped you enjoyed this story and maybe learned something yourself.**

**~Arknox443275**


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